The Infamous Rosalie Hale
by Ajilia Lyran
Summary: Introducing Rosalie Hale. EPOV


**Quickie: **This is pretty much just a one-shot of when Carlisle changes Rosalie. It's from Edward's point of view.

**Disclaimer:** Alas and alack, Stephanie Meyer is the brilliant mind who made these characters and their stories.

_**The Infamous Rosalie Hale**_

I was sitting on a sofa in a dark gray suit. My hat was on the seat next to me. I was leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees and my head resting on my hands. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to make sense of what had happened. I could hear the cries and whimpers of a young woman in the room next to the one I was in. The door connecting the two rooms clicked open and in walked Esme. She was pretending to be my sister. Her hair was pin up under a fashionable hat and she closed the door behind her.

…_he looks tense…_ Her thoughts drifted through my head gently. She moved my hat onto the armrest and sat next to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Why would he do that?" I complained. Letting my hands fall to my side and now leaning backwards. "Does he have any idea how dangerous it is to do this to her? Does he not realize that people will wonder where she _is_?" I looked into Esme's eyes that were nearly all black save for the golden circlets outlining them.

"It will be all right, Edward," she coaxed softly. She began rubbing my shoulder in a soothing matter. "You do not have to be so afraid."

Afraid? I was infuriated. I nearly exploded then and there, but Esme had been so good. She had gladly accepted me when I returned from my "studying abroad." It was a form of studying. I studied what people I could kill and drink from without too much regret. Then I realized that there was not any way I could do that. So I came back.

"I'm just frustrated," I explained. She had been nothing but kindness for these two years. Carlisle had been the same. But that did not give him the right to change such a house-hold figure into the eternally damned.

Esme could see the emotion boiling from behind my eyes. She smiled softly and sighed.

"Carlisle says that you can go in now," she told me. "Do not lose your temper."

Always the diplomat… I stood up and put my hat back on. I slowly opened the door only to be met with painful screams and thoughts and a much more calm set of thinkings. I closed the door behind me, giving Esme a break from the tense interaction about to occur.

…_ah, so he comes in…_ Carlisle looked up at me from beside the bed where a young woman was writhing in pain. His eyes were so innocent. He was holding her hand and stroking it softly.

"Is she done yet?" I sounded sharp. I could hear the edge in my voice. There was no point in faking it. Carlisle's thoughts let me know that he saw it in me.

"Almost…" he promised, looking back at her face. It was distorted in agony. His eyes flashed up to mine. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

He had no idea. "What were you thinking, Carlisle? Rosalie Hale?" I spat her name with half the respect and deference anyone else in Rochester gave her.

"I could not just let her die," he defended. His thoughts matched his voice. He was honest. It was hard to argue with honesty. "It was too much – too horrible, too much waste."

Oh, yes, the beautiful, mystical Rosalie Hale. "I know." He could tell by my tone that I was not convinced. I heard the door behind me click open and shut. I did not care to turn around to face Esme. I could not handle both at once.

"It was too much waste. I could not leave her." He was whispering now, turning back to look at Rosalie. Her spasms were calming slightly.

"Of course you could not," Esme supported. It would be a lot trickier to fight them both. They were such honest, good people – well, vampires.

"People die all the time. Did you not think that she is just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search – not that anyone suspects the fiend." I snarled when I referred to that ghastly man who had beat Rosalie and left her in the streets to die.

The shivering young woman let out a small groan. All three pairs of eyes shot to her and we gathered around her. Carlisle draped a blanket over her.

"What are we going to do with her?" She was not easily going to blend in with us, so I asked the obvious rhetorical. What were we going to do? She was bound to be recognized and the last thing we needed was to be invaded and investigated by police. We would have to move. And soon…

"That's up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way," Carlisle replied much to my surprise. His words hung in the air like a disease as Rosalie's breathing stabilized. It was not long before I began to hear her thoughts organize themselves.

…_where am I? Why am I lying on something? Am I still on the street? Where is he? I'll cut his throat out for what he did. I'll—_

Her blood red eyes shot open. The sudden stop in her thoughts made me wince. She seemed to notice my wincing, but misinterpreted it.

…_what's wrong with him? Am I not good enough for him? Stupid men… _Her thoughts were threaded with venom. A king cobra would've been terrified.

"Hello, Rosalie," Carlisle said soothingly. "Do you recognize me?" I practically snorted. He sounded like he was dealing with an eight-year-old who had tripped on cobblestone. Her blood red eyes snapped towards me again. Carlisle followed her gaze and shook his head.

_Stop it, Edward, you're not helping,_ he informed me.

"I do not want to help," I gritted through my teeth.

He inhaled through his nose and let it out slowly. _Then give me time to explain to her, please. This will not be easy._

"No one said that it would be," I snarled. I turned on my heel and left out of the door. Esme did not even try to stop me. I just kept walking, out one door and then the next. Luckily, it was late. There were very few lights on, so I strolled down the street and found myself in a small park. I sat on a bench and tried to put myself in order.

Obviously, I knew why Carlisle had saved her. She was so young, so full of life. And yet she was horribly mistreated by those men. There was some sort of… retribution required. How could he do that, though? We were just getting comfortable. I had just come back two years ago.

I was intrigued when he had converted Esme. It was different then, though. He had known Esme from a while back, before I had met him. He had aided her broken arm, only to meet her later when she tried to commit suicide after losing a child. There was more of a reason for her to change. I could not deny him the pleasure of her life. Their bond was something so powerful that it hit me like a pick-axe in the face if I was ever in either of their minds while they were together. His logic for having her was flawless.

But Rosalie King née Hale?

He could not defend himself on that point other than that she was dying.

And I was dying, too, when he found me. So why was this all frustrating?

My defense was that my mother begged him to save me, and he could never break the trust of a patient.

No one had asked him to save Rosalie.

So why did he?

I do not know how long I just sat there on the bench and thought, but the light from the sun had begun to peak over the buildings. Sighing, I wandered back to our dwelling. Carlisle and Rosalie were no longer there.

"He took her hunting," Esme explained. "They should be back in a day or so."

Of course he would. Carlisle was a saint, always caring for the well-being of others.

…_he looks frustrated. I'll just tell him later…_

I snapped my head to look at her.

"Tell me what?"

She froze. Sometimes I got the feeling that she was not entirely comfortable or used to me reading her thoughts and responding. I truly did endeavor to not listen, but I was too… on edge to resist.

"Just an idea that Rosalie had," she answered quietly.

Considering the long list of vegetables that began streaming through her head, I could tell that she did not want me to know something.

"An idea?" I pressed. "What kind?"

She shook her head. "We'll discuss when they get back."

The conversation was closed. I went into my own room and sat in the chair, not for the first time wishing I could sleep. Sleep was such a wonderful way to waste the hours that you did not want to have to think through.

Thus I waited.

Esme carefully guarded her thoughts through the entire situation. I felt like a child waiting for a surprise that would only come when my father came home from the war. Perhaps he would appreciate me more. Perhaps he would abandon us. Or perhaps the father would treat me just the same. I did not know which was worse.

Granted, I was being completely unfair to Carlisle. He was so gracious, so much more than I could ever attempt to be. He was kind and caring. He would treat Rosalie like a lost daughter. And he would care for me no less.

Time slipped by, at last. Rosalie and Carlisle returned, eyes bright. His were butterscotch; hers, scarlet. They stood with Esme in the living room when I entered. It had the vibe of an intervention.

…_I hope he does not get anymore distressed…_ Esme, as diplomatic as ever.

…_he better remain a gentleman. I'm depending on him… _ Carlisle.

…_what is _his_ issue?..._ And Rosalie.

"Esme." I nodded at her with recognition. "Carlisle." My head curled at him. "Miss Hale." My eyes locked with hers.

…_I would consider that respect, but he seems so bitter about it…_

At least she was quick to pick things up. I allowed my lips to form a natural smile, crooked on one side.

…_Edward! Behave!..._ Sadly, Carlisle had picked up on my malice. _…I did inform her of your ability, but she will not be able to grasp it for a while…_

My head twisted back to Carlisle. "Esme let it slip that there was something you were all going to tell me."

…_oh, Edward, you make me feel embarrassed…_ Esme's thoughts sounded pained. Before I had a second to apologize, Carlisle already had his hand on her shoulder and gave her a simple squeeze. It was such a sweet gesture that I felt nauseous all of the sudden. He had such a way of knowing when she was uncomfortable. She immediately felt better. It was not like he was forgiving her: he was letting her know that there was nothing to forgive because she had done nothing wrong.

…_do not be alarmed…_ "Rosalie and I have had many discussions, and I believe that there is something we owe her," Carlisle began. I raised a single eyebrow.

…_he acts so condescending… _ I turned back to Rosalie.

"I can hear what you think, _Miss_ Hale," I bit. Her nostrils flared slightly, not in an utterly terrifying way. Every movement she made was graceful and pretty. Still, she did not impress me. "Please be so kind as to restrict such… demeaning interpretations of my behavior."

She smiled back at me, both cold and warm at the same time. Such a pretty little façade.

"Edward…" The tone of my father's voice was laced with warning. "She wishes to exact her revenge."

I started.

…_not at you, calm down. At her attackers…_

This made me no more at ease.

"Revenge? How?"

"They will suffer."

The words from her were like demonic syllables enunciated by an angel. I peaked a little further into her thoughts and saw what she was planning. She would take their lives. A growl roared up in me.

"No!"

Memories from my ten-year absence flitted through my imagination. It was the same scenario: pursuing the evils of the world. An honorable intention, no doubt, but who were we to decide what evil was?

Revenge could be sweet.

But respect for life was so much more.

"You cannot be serious, Carlisle. You would condone annihilation like that?"

He stared hard at me. "You did."

I winced. "That was my ill. I have learned, and I will not stand by and watch her drain them dry."

"I would not drink their blood!"

All three of us faced her, bewildered. Slowly she looked from Esme to Carlisle.

"I want nothing of them left. I want nothing of them in me." Her gaze rested on me. "I just want them to not exist. I will not poison myself."

The tenacity in her tone was unavoidable. It was impossible not to notice. It did not matter what my judgment was. She was going to do it her way.

"Fine, then, go ahead, take their lives." My voice had somehow calmed a little. I had begun to think.

She was such a child, as was I.

She needed to do it as she wanted, so that she could learn.

It was not like I could get rid of her easily. She was to be one of us, unless she wanted to run off, like I did.

But even I came back.

"I'm going for a walk." And I left. The last thing I heard on my way out was Carlisle.

…_you took that much cooler than I expected…_

I walked along the streets of Rochester, trying to think of a something I could do for Rosalie. Clearly, I had made her feel unwelcome and uncomfortable with us. Esme and Carlisle would shower her with love, so I took a pre-emptive strike to bring her down before she got too high. Perhaps I had gone to far?

Maybe I should get a gift for her.

I thought for a second, standing still on the sidewalk. The perfect item came into my mind. Something that would make her revenge even sweeter.

As I began walking again, this time much more briskly, I heard thoughts pour through me. One stood out among the rest.

…_poor Miss Hale. Where could she be?..._

Everyone seemed interested in her.

Quietly as I could, I stole the item I needed, as well as a rather pretty box to store it in. All folded neatly, I returned home to find Carlisle and Esme conversing in another room. Rosalie was sitting gracefully on a chair. Unceremoniously, I handed her the box.

"For your revenge." I stepped back, watching as she anxiously undid the bow.

…_what is he up to?..._

She opened the box and froze. Her eyes darted up to me.

"I thought it would have a better effect on that bas—" I rethought my wording. "On your Mr. King."

She placed a single hand on the fabric and slowly smiled.

It was a peace offering. Nothing more, nothing less.

And she understood that.

Nodding, she pulled it out.

I took that as my cue to leave.

I had to get passed Carlisle and Esme to reach my own room.

"What was that?" she asked softly. "A gift?"

I shook my head. "I think it's only fair that that man be destroyed by an angel. What more of a terror is there then an angry wife out for your blood in her wedding dress?"


End file.
